Done in 2012
Monday, 5 December 2016
Sunday, 4 December 2016
My Running Story
Written on 25th Nov, 2016, provided to Peeran Cheruvu Runners as promotional material for their Annual Run.
In one way or another, sport had always
been a part of my life. As a kid, I loved running after my friends, jumping in
the pool, hoolahooping, and basically anything that made me lose my breath. I
was the kid that came down first and went home last. My friend’s grandmother
would sometimes give me a weary stare when I came knocking, and say ‘No, your
friend is studying!’ Anyways, you get the idea.
I always passively knew that my dad ran
marathons, but I’d never ventured to figure out why. And I say “passively”
because had I known what it took to run such crazy distances, I’d have been a
hell of a lot more proud of him than I was.
In 2014, I dropped out of school to study
from home. It was a drastic change for a person whose life revolved around
friends and school. Suddenly, I had nobody to play with. No throw ball. No
kabaddi (how I miss Kabaddi!). It was then that my father said, “Okay, let’s
get out and run!” The Club Run held by Hyderabad Runners every year was
scheduled for that Feb, and Dada said I could train for a 3K. In my mind, I
thought “Wow! 3 kilometers! If I can do this, I’m strong!” With a month and a
half to go for race day, I started (mentally!) preparing myself. But I’m
characteristically a procrastinator. It wasn’t until 3 weeks before race day
that I actually laced my shoes on and said, “Okay, let’s do this.” I ran 1½
kilometers that day. And then 3 kilometers the next. And then, suddenly, I
wasn’t satisfied. The next week, I dragged Dada down with me with a plan to run
20 rounds of the ground downstairs. 20 rounds came and went. I went to sleep
that night having done 35 rounds of the ground (7.5 kilometers,) and feeling
extremely smug. The next week, I ran 50 rounds. 10 kilometers under my belt.
Hell, I could do this!
That Feb, I ran my first 10K, earned my
first runners medal, and had the biggest smile on my sunburnt face.
For the next year and a half, I ran 5Ks and
10Ks in almost every event that was held in Hyderabad. I ran a 7K in Ladakh and
a 10K in Goa. It was contagious. And to be completely honest, what I enjoyed
even more than the run itself was to be with the runners. There’s such a sense
of enthusiasm and encouragement and general joviality when you’re with runners.
Before and after the race, it’s so wonderful that you have to experience it to
cherish it!
In May 2016, I decided to run the half marathon at AHM, 2016. As usual, it wasn’t until (almost) too late that I bucked up. The maximum distance I’d run was 13K, and with less than 2 months to go, I began panicking. Should I downgrade? I mean, I was probably kidding myself, I didn’t have it in me to run 21 long and frustrating kilometres. When I voiced my concerns, Dada flatly refused. No way are you downgrading, he told me. Okay, that left one option: run the distance. I started training in the evenings, inching towards the target distance ever so slowly. On each and every one of my long distance runs I had Dada by my side, willing me to go the extra distance (and most importantly carrying the weight of my water bottle!). When I completed my final long run (18K), I didn’t feel dead or exhausted (as I had felt after my first 16k). I felt energised. I felt alert. And yes, granted, my legs yearned for the warm bed, but something in me knew that if I willed it to happen, it would happen.
In May 2016, I decided to run the half marathon at AHM, 2016. As usual, it wasn’t until (almost) too late that I bucked up. The maximum distance I’d run was 13K, and with less than 2 months to go, I began panicking. Should I downgrade? I mean, I was probably kidding myself, I didn’t have it in me to run 21 long and frustrating kilometres. When I voiced my concerns, Dada flatly refused. No way are you downgrading, he told me. Okay, that left one option: run the distance. I started training in the evenings, inching towards the target distance ever so slowly. On each and every one of my long distance runs I had Dada by my side, willing me to go the extra distance (and most importantly carrying the weight of my water bottle!). When I completed my final long run (18K), I didn’t feel dead or exhausted (as I had felt after my first 16k). I felt energised. I felt alert. And yes, granted, my legs yearned for the warm bed, but something in me knew that if I willed it to happen, it would happen.
I won’t lie. My first half marathon was
exhausting. I crossed the finish line with my legs feeling wobbly. I just
wanted to lie in a cool place and doze off. I felt a slight throbbing in my
head. But you know what? All through the distance, on every high and every low,
and every exhausting incline that this city has to offer, not one part of me
regretted it. I can proudly say that there wasn’t a single moment on the whole
course that my legs stopped working. I didn’t walk up a single incline or stop
in a single place (I even took my water on the run!). I ran the entire
distance, start to finish, every bit of the 21.1K course, and I was so proud.
You have to run it to experience it. So,
lace on those shoes and get out. Because it’s worth it.
Sunday, 9 October 2016
DAY 6 (Day 4 of ABC) - Dobhan - Himalaya - Deurali - MBC (28/09/2016)
TOTAL ELEVATION GAIN: 1200m
Clouds began to stealthily creep in from the peripheries of the sky.
I struggled to eat breakfast today, but got whatever porridge and omelet I could down my throat. The Chinese lade who gave us the wonderfully nutty and crunchy snacks at dinner yesterday was sitting beside me. She was attempting to tell me which Chinese province she was from. She said "Panda. You know Panda?" I thought she was talking about some Chinese province so I said "No". She seemed shocked! She said "Panda! You don't know Panda? Big, white, cute..." Oh! That's what she meant. She seemed hugely relieved when I understood! The friendly German couple next to us talked about their experience on the trail. They recommended we start really early from MBC and that the route from MBC to ABC is itself really beautiful While you're walking, you get a view of the famous ABC sunrise. Varun promptly told them he's a fan of Mesut Ozil. They took a minute to comprehend what the was saying, and when they did, they said "Oh! Özil!" Apparently the pronunciation is different, which they taught us. The 'O' in Özil in pronounced as ' Oo' or something.
We started out at 7:30am as usual. We trekked through great mossy trees with the moss hanging in ropes from them. We crossed numerous streams and one stunningly pretty river; the rocks in the river had smooth contour shaped lines caused by the constant beating of the water against rock. We took a family photo over the rickety bridge over the river. On the way to Himalaya we saw a simple, stone built structure - a place of worship. Within the mini slated stone house was a thin bark of a tree with red tika and haldi and a few brass bowls and flowers. The beauty in simplicity. Two hours after beginning for the day we reached Himalaya as anticipated. We met our three Nepali friends there, just setting our. [Edit: We'd met three Nepalis on Day 2 of the trek after beginning our descent from Pothana. One of them told me she was a great fam of Mahesh Babu aand watched all his movies dubbed in Hindi. She was so excited to know we were from Hyderabad! The three of them were travelling without a porter or guide. How commendable! It needed real confidence to do that. We kept bumping into them all the way up to ABC.]
Between Himalaya and Deurali we cam to Hinku Cave, a large rock protruding from the mountain side. Very beautiful (and shady). We were now trekking along the Modi Khola, the river we would follow all the way to ABC. The gushing and gurgling water provided a constant soothing sound. From Hinku Cave it took us half an hour to get to Deurali even though it seemed to be right there. We saw a mesmerizing, majestic, incredibly high waterfall falling down the mountain. The natural world at the rawest, most fierce elegance.
To get to Deurali we had to descend and ascend, which gave my poor left knee enough to wail about. As we entered Deurali, Alexi was right on our tail. He does seem to appear out of thin air. He lifted both his arms in greeted when he saw us above. Man he was fast. He'd started from Bamboo, an hour below Dobhan and still was with us! We stopped at 12:30pm for lunch, a simple Dal Bhat again. The vegetable - Potato, Batata and Soy Nuggets - was yummy. I took a long time to finish my Dal, struggling. Eventually after I though I'd stuffed as much of food into myself as I could, we hit the trail again.
On the way from Deurali to MBC the trail got incredibly beautiful. It reminded me of Glencoe and Skye in Scotland, only more remote and untouched. The vegetation rapidly thinned out until there were only bushes and moss and a lone tree here and there. Soon after we left, clouds began to stealthily creep in from the peripheries of the sky. It began to rain, which caused all of us to get our ponchos out and trudge along. The clouds and mist descended upon us as we walked along the river at the bottom of the valley, bare mountains towering over us.
Mama was getting really slow. Dada said altitude sickness had probably hit her as we were now above 3000m. 3000m. Wow. Varun and Tirtha pushed off so as to hold us a room at MBC, especially if Mama's speed was drastically going to slow down. I watched them ahead of me until they became a hazy blur through the mist. Dada and Mama soon fell behind (he was accompanying her slowly as the terrain was becoming increasingly challenging to overcome) and for the next hour or so I was on my own.
I was surprised at the amount of energy I had. Yesterday had me exhausted to the bone but today had a splendid sort of inspiration seize me as I walked up the mountains, softly singing a song to myself. At one point, I paused for five minutes to see a baby rabbit, golden brown, maple leaf in colour going about it's business. It had the sweetest little home - a hole under a flattish, rather mossy rock. It was so well concealed. The rabbit moved in a twitchy way, up and down, into its home and out, and paused to look at me. I moved my walking stick gently sideways to see if it would respond - it promptly dived into it's hope beneath the rock.
As I went higher and higher overcoming rock after rock, step after step I suddenly heard a sheep bleating. Oh oh... What now? Then I heard hooves. Whoops. Ten sheep came trotting down the path. I stood precariously to the side to let them pass and for the next ten minutes carefully had to maneuvre the generous amount of droppings they'd left behind.
By 3:00pm I began getting impatient. I was alone in my Hobbit style poncho and no sign of MBC. The mist was thickening. Just when I was beginning to get irritable, what with two more set of sheep trotting by, and the rain not being able to make up its mind, I saw a long hut at the top of the opposite hill. Yes! Destination in sight.
By 3:30pm I'd crossed the river and climbed the steps up to MBC. Well the first lodge of MBC. Tirtha loved to take us to the farthest lodge in each village. Varun and Tirtha weren't there at the first lodge so I had to continue my way forward to the other lodges which were invisible through the dense fog. As I went forward Varun and Tirtha appeared on the trail ahead of me, walking in my direction. They directed me to the Fisk Tail lodge and continued on to fetch Dada and Mama. After huffing and puffing my way to Fish Tail, it was a relief to keep my bag down. I headed to the warm dining room and asked for a cup of 'kadak chai' which turned out to be milky anyways.
I met a wonderfully sweet Russian gentleman in the dining room. I asked him something in English (maybe rapidly) to which he said "Slow! Slow!" and smiled. He told me that it was no use going to ABC late tomorrow; the sunrise was to be caught in the early hours of the morning. A start at 5:00am from ABC was Russiam recommended. He also told me in his slow, broken English that once at ABC, we must climb a further 200m-300m to get a truly splendid view. ABC was too lot and far from the mountains, he said. From up there you'd be above the clouds and alone wit the mountains. He then made these wavy gestures with his hand that I of course couldn't understand after which he paused for almost a minute to decide how to communicate his thoughts. He then started looking into his phone and typing, so I thought he'd forgotten about me but after about two minutes, he showed me the screen of his phone and repeated those wavy gestures; his phone screen read 'crest of the wave' in huge font. What the hell was that supposed to mean? He repeatedly made those gestures with his hands. Ah! From up there, 200m above ABC, it seems like you are on the crest of a wave. Wow! So using your phone to translate from Russian to English is handy! Point noted. He gave me a half wink as he got up. What a lovely man! (He just winked again as he came into the dining room a minute ago!)
A Korean in the dining room said he'd done an eighteen day trek of Ghandruk, Poon Hill, Ghorepani and some other places before finally arriving at ABC. You really do meet hardly people on these treks.
We've ordered a pizza and fried rice for dinner. I wonder how it'll be at 3700m. We're paying a fortune for it - it better be good.
We'll probably spend a night at ABC tomorrow. It depends on Mama's altitude sickness. She seems better now. She looked totally dead after the trek.
The Russian is saying it's his second time in Nepal, a twenty day vacation. Sixteen days at ABC. How lovely. You need so much patience to spend that much time alone. An hour ago, he was sitting outside in the cold and watching the descending fog. Just staring into the mist. It's admirable, that quality of quietly observing and being at peace with yourself.
He wished us "Bon Apatite" as out dinners were served. The Pizza was awesome! Varun and I had our most enjoyable dinner. The crust was crisp and firm, and the toppings were as good as it can get at 3700m in Nepal. We ended our meal with a piping hot Snickers Roll. Man we deserved it at the end of today.
Clouds began to stealthily creep in from the peripheries of the sky.
I struggled to eat breakfast today, but got whatever porridge and omelet I could down my throat. The Chinese lade who gave us the wonderfully nutty and crunchy snacks at dinner yesterday was sitting beside me. She was attempting to tell me which Chinese province she was from. She said "Panda. You know Panda?" I thought she was talking about some Chinese province so I said "No". She seemed shocked! She said "Panda! You don't know Panda? Big, white, cute..." Oh! That's what she meant. She seemed hugely relieved when I understood! The friendly German couple next to us talked about their experience on the trail. They recommended we start really early from MBC and that the route from MBC to ABC is itself really beautiful While you're walking, you get a view of the famous ABC sunrise. Varun promptly told them he's a fan of Mesut Ozil. They took a minute to comprehend what the was saying, and when they did, they said "Oh! Özil!" Apparently the pronunciation is different, which they taught us. The 'O' in Özil in pronounced as ' Oo' or something.
We started out at 7:30am as usual. We trekked through great mossy trees with the moss hanging in ropes from them. We crossed numerous streams and one stunningly pretty river; the rocks in the river had smooth contour shaped lines caused by the constant beating of the water against rock. We took a family photo over the rickety bridge over the river. On the way to Himalaya we saw a simple, stone built structure - a place of worship. Within the mini slated stone house was a thin bark of a tree with red tika and haldi and a few brass bowls and flowers. The beauty in simplicity. Two hours after beginning for the day we reached Himalaya as anticipated. We met our three Nepali friends there, just setting our. [Edit: We'd met three Nepalis on Day 2 of the trek after beginning our descent from Pothana. One of them told me she was a great fam of Mahesh Babu aand watched all his movies dubbed in Hindi. She was so excited to know we were from Hyderabad! The three of them were travelling without a porter or guide. How commendable! It needed real confidence to do that. We kept bumping into them all the way up to ABC.]
Between Himalaya and Deurali we cam to Hinku Cave, a large rock protruding from the mountain side. Very beautiful (and shady). We were now trekking along the Modi Khola, the river we would follow all the way to ABC. The gushing and gurgling water provided a constant soothing sound. From Hinku Cave it took us half an hour to get to Deurali even though it seemed to be right there. We saw a mesmerizing, majestic, incredibly high waterfall falling down the mountain. The natural world at the rawest, most fierce elegance.
To get to Deurali we had to descend and ascend, which gave my poor left knee enough to wail about. As we entered Deurali, Alexi was right on our tail. He does seem to appear out of thin air. He lifted both his arms in greeted when he saw us above. Man he was fast. He'd started from Bamboo, an hour below Dobhan and still was with us! We stopped at 12:30pm for lunch, a simple Dal Bhat again. The vegetable - Potato, Batata and Soy Nuggets - was yummy. I took a long time to finish my Dal, struggling. Eventually after I though I'd stuffed as much of food into myself as I could, we hit the trail again.
On the way from Deurali to MBC the trail got incredibly beautiful. It reminded me of Glencoe and Skye in Scotland, only more remote and untouched. The vegetation rapidly thinned out until there were only bushes and moss and a lone tree here and there. Soon after we left, clouds began to stealthily creep in from the peripheries of the sky. It began to rain, which caused all of us to get our ponchos out and trudge along. The clouds and mist descended upon us as we walked along the river at the bottom of the valley, bare mountains towering over us.
Mama was getting really slow. Dada said altitude sickness had probably hit her as we were now above 3000m. 3000m. Wow. Varun and Tirtha pushed off so as to hold us a room at MBC, especially if Mama's speed was drastically going to slow down. I watched them ahead of me until they became a hazy blur through the mist. Dada and Mama soon fell behind (he was accompanying her slowly as the terrain was becoming increasingly challenging to overcome) and for the next hour or so I was on my own.
I was surprised at the amount of energy I had. Yesterday had me exhausted to the bone but today had a splendid sort of inspiration seize me as I walked up the mountains, softly singing a song to myself. At one point, I paused for five minutes to see a baby rabbit, golden brown, maple leaf in colour going about it's business. It had the sweetest little home - a hole under a flattish, rather mossy rock. It was so well concealed. The rabbit moved in a twitchy way, up and down, into its home and out, and paused to look at me. I moved my walking stick gently sideways to see if it would respond - it promptly dived into it's hope beneath the rock.
As I went higher and higher overcoming rock after rock, step after step I suddenly heard a sheep bleating. Oh oh... What now? Then I heard hooves. Whoops. Ten sheep came trotting down the path. I stood precariously to the side to let them pass and for the next ten minutes carefully had to maneuvre the generous amount of droppings they'd left behind.
By 3:00pm I began getting impatient. I was alone in my Hobbit style poncho and no sign of MBC. The mist was thickening. Just when I was beginning to get irritable, what with two more set of sheep trotting by, and the rain not being able to make up its mind, I saw a long hut at the top of the opposite hill. Yes! Destination in sight.
By 3:30pm I'd crossed the river and climbed the steps up to MBC. Well the first lodge of MBC. Tirtha loved to take us to the farthest lodge in each village. Varun and Tirtha weren't there at the first lodge so I had to continue my way forward to the other lodges which were invisible through the dense fog. As I went forward Varun and Tirtha appeared on the trail ahead of me, walking in my direction. They directed me to the Fisk Tail lodge and continued on to fetch Dada and Mama. After huffing and puffing my way to Fish Tail, it was a relief to keep my bag down. I headed to the warm dining room and asked for a cup of 'kadak chai' which turned out to be milky anyways.
I met a wonderfully sweet Russian gentleman in the dining room. I asked him something in English (maybe rapidly) to which he said "Slow! Slow!" and smiled. He told me that it was no use going to ABC late tomorrow; the sunrise was to be caught in the early hours of the morning. A start at 5:00am from ABC was Russiam recommended. He also told me in his slow, broken English that once at ABC, we must climb a further 200m-300m to get a truly splendid view. ABC was too lot and far from the mountains, he said. From up there you'd be above the clouds and alone wit the mountains. He then made these wavy gestures with his hand that I of course couldn't understand after which he paused for almost a minute to decide how to communicate his thoughts. He then started looking into his phone and typing, so I thought he'd forgotten about me but after about two minutes, he showed me the screen of his phone and repeated those wavy gestures; his phone screen read 'crest of the wave' in huge font. What the hell was that supposed to mean? He repeatedly made those gestures with his hands. Ah! From up there, 200m above ABC, it seems like you are on the crest of a wave. Wow! So using your phone to translate from Russian to English is handy! Point noted. He gave me a half wink as he got up. What a lovely man! (He just winked again as he came into the dining room a minute ago!)
A Korean in the dining room said he'd done an eighteen day trek of Ghandruk, Poon Hill, Ghorepani and some other places before finally arriving at ABC. You really do meet hardly people on these treks.
We've ordered a pizza and fried rice for dinner. I wonder how it'll be at 3700m. We're paying a fortune for it - it better be good.
We'll probably spend a night at ABC tomorrow. It depends on Mama's altitude sickness. She seems better now. She looked totally dead after the trek.
The Russian is saying it's his second time in Nepal, a twenty day vacation. Sixteen days at ABC. How lovely. You need so much patience to spend that much time alone. An hour ago, he was sitting outside in the cold and watching the descending fog. Just staring into the mist. It's admirable, that quality of quietly observing and being at peace with yourself.
He wished us "Bon Apatite" as out dinners were served. The Pizza was awesome! Varun and I had our most enjoyable dinner. The crust was crisp and firm, and the toppings were as good as it can get at 3700m in Nepal. We ended our meal with a piping hot Snickers Roll. Man we deserved it at the end of today.
DAY 5 (Day 3 of ABC) - Jhinu - Chhomrong - Sinuwa - Bamboo - Dobhan - (27/09/2016)
TOTAL ELEVATION GAIN: 820m
In the mountains, often, places look deceptively close.
What with the dense foliage, the mossy trees, the wet stones, we could have been in a scene out of The Lord of the Rings.
We had a little bit of everything today. Up and down. Clear heavens and overcast skies. Sweltering heat and torrents of rain.
We woke up today to a shadowy, cool morning. The blue sky was invisible, but soon, in half an hour, the sun shone over Annapurna South and Machhapuchre. It was such a beautiful beginning to the day.
At sharp 6:45am, we were served a breakfast of omelet, toast and butter and Tibetan bread. I looked at the big, energetic hotel woman bustling about and doing almost everything. She was in the kitchen. She was serving everyone. She was at our table asking if we needed anything. The tea that we returned saying it was too milky was back within two minutes, this time just as we liked it. She was giving orders to the kitchen staff in her booming voice. She was serving the porters and guides a hearty breakfast and placing laden plates of boiled eggs and breads in from of them. Fifteen minutes later she was in the courtyard sweeping. My god, the mountain people have some extraordinary energy.
We set off for the day at 7:30am. The climb up to Chhomrong was a tough start to an even tougher day. I don't think there was a single downwards step for an hour till we reached the beginning of Chhomrong near the top of the hill. It was beautiful, though. The sun was shining on the valley, the birds we cheerfully chirping and there was a cool breeze blowing.We say two lovely birds perched on a telephone wire - one of then was a bright turquoise blue.
We reached Chhomrong at 9:30am, or so I think. More like the "beginning" or Chhomrong. The village went on and on for ages! The hut that I'd seen at the top of the hill and sighed at turned out to be only the beginning of an arduous journey. After crossing 'the house at the top of the hill' we began our downwards descent. I developed a love-hate relationship with descent today. While it was a welcome change from the constant ascent, it meant that we were loosing the height we had previously gained and would have to make up for it later.
On the way, we came to another ACAP checkpoint. A couple of women came up to us. One painted a long red tika on our forehead with her finger, while the other gave us each a red wild flower. We learnt what it was World Tourism Day. Who knew?
We encountered out first group of Indian trekkers at Chhomrong from Bombay. Surprisingly, it felt good to know that our fellow Indians were also here. We asked them if there was snow at ABC (they were on their way down) to which they said "Yes, of course!". This came as a surprise because Tirtha had told us their wasn't going to be any snow at ABC. A pair of trekkers - a Japanese man and his porter - crossed us along the way. It was amusing, because the Japanese looked energetic and upbeat and the porter looked completely drained. In fact, the Japanese was carrying a pretty big bag too. The porter seemed so relieved that the trail was going down now!
At the bottom of the valley, we crossed a long bridge, and from the other side up, the madness started. The sun's heat was sweltering. My back started aching due to the heavy bag I was carrying. Well not so much of my back as the part behind my neck and between my shoulders. I had to stop wherever I could to regain my energy. On the way up there was a protruding rock that provided invitingly cool shade. I let the pressure off my back for a while as the rock provided a lovely crevice underneath which there was sort of a natural bench.
We saw Alexi somewhere along, about twenty minutes after crossing the bridge. He said "Hey! You guys are ahead of me today!" How did he seem so fresh in the heat? He always started later and caught up before lunchtime. I got so exhausted after a while that Dada had to carry my bag on top of his own huge rucksack. I felt much lighter, granted, but the pain near my shoulders didn't subside. Tirtha and Varun forged ahead while Dada accompanied me Mama slowly from behind. Our lunch destination was Upper Sinuwa. The meaning of "Upper" didn't strike me until I saw a cluster of houses and was like "Yes! Destination in sight!". Nope. That was Lower Sinuwa. So destination not in sight. In the mountains, often, places look deceptively close. What seems like a (mighty) stones through away takes hours to reach.
We reached Upper Sinuwa at 12:20pm and I didn't have one ounce of energy left in me. It did not help my ego that Mama reached with me. The sunny and sweaty trek up was enough to finish me. My shoulders were burning, even though Dada had carried my bag up for me. I let my feet air a bit. I don't think they liked being laced up 8 hours a day.
At 12:45pm, we got our (by now) routine Dal Bhat lunch. I didn't feel like eating at all. Dada said I was probably dehydrated. But diagnosing the problem wouldn't help me in my irritable state. I know I had to get in as much food as possible to sustain the physical exertion, so slowly, bite by bite, I ate the soupy dal and rice till I no longer could. It was unfortunate that I couldn't enjoy my meal to the fullest; it was quite delicious. The Dal had a wonderful garlic flavour. Well at least everyone else enjoyed the meal.
Dada washed some shirts at Upper Sinuwa and pinned it to our bags. The sun was so strong that they would quickly dry. Well, the mountains don't listen to you. You listen to the mountains. It began by a drizzle, but twenty minutes after staring from Sinuwa the skies opened up and the rain fell steadily with no seeming intention of stopping. We took brief shelter under dense foliage and hastily brought our ponchos out after a bit of confusion about what was in who's bag and where. And continued on our suddenly wet path. I thought the rain would pose a hindrance, what with the slipperiness amplified but it was a relief to walk in the continued overcast skies. The sun had worked hard enough in the former part of the day. We had to be a little careful because we were descending into the valley once again (and my glasses were fogging up), but thankfully the stones weren't slippery. What with the dense foliage, the mossy trees, the wet stones, we could have been in a scene out of The Lord of the Rings. Or the Forbidden Forest. Tirtha said we'd reach Bamboo at the bottom of the valet in two and a half hours, but we reached in an hour and forty five minutes. Not bad! My shoulder pain hadn't subsided, but the energy from lunch kept us going strong.
Tirtha said we couldn't stay in Bamboo as he'd booked us a place in Dobhan in anticipation of trekking traffic. Mama and I were a little downcast. Bamboo seemed so pretty, with creepers along the housing and wild flowers growing. Anyways as we began to leave Bamboo, Alexi strolled in, looking jolly as usual. He said he'd decided to set camp at Bamboo today and enjoy the rainy beauty. And there was beauty aplenty to enjoy. Bamboo was a quaint little village; there were misty mountains to be seen from above and right in from of you, lovely waterfalls appearing and disappearing through the mist.
Anyways, on we went. It got so beautiful suddenly. It wasn't raining anymore, and the misty beauty was so breathtaking. We crossed small rickety wooden bridges and gushing rivers; little bits of blue sky were peeping from behind the clouds; high up, waterfalls were visible... This is why you come to the mountains.
We reached Dobhan at 4:30pm, relatively early compared to our previous days ending. We took a refreshingly hot shower which cost ₹150. The boiling hot water was comforting after the long, long day.
My left knee, in which I'd developed some pain on the trail today and gave me increasing trouble, got some rest which was essential. I could hardly walk down the steps towards the end due to my left knee aching.
A steaming mug of tea at 5:30pm and my journal in hand, I had enough to keep me occupied. At 6:00pm, Tirtha came over and we began discussing the next few days. This had become a routine for the evening. Our plan is that we spend tomorrow night either at Deurali or Machhapuchre Base Camp (MBC) and the day after that at ABC. And then we'll see.
At 6:15pm we all the outside to see the wonderful sunset over Machhapuchre.
Dinner was excellent. Noodles, excellent fried rice and mouth-wateringly delicious Mars Roll, which was like a deep-fried, light and airy Tibetan Bread with chopped up and melting Mars bars inside. Deliciously warm is the cold weather.
It is 7:45pm now. Dada is telling Varun to write a journal as a frantically write away instead of doing Dada's work - writing down the expenditures. Varun says he is more satisfied expenses than experiences.
In the mountains, often, places look deceptively close.
What with the dense foliage, the mossy trees, the wet stones, we could have been in a scene out of The Lord of the Rings.
We had a little bit of everything today. Up and down. Clear heavens and overcast skies. Sweltering heat and torrents of rain.
We woke up today to a shadowy, cool morning. The blue sky was invisible, but soon, in half an hour, the sun shone over Annapurna South and Machhapuchre. It was such a beautiful beginning to the day.
At sharp 6:45am, we were served a breakfast of omelet, toast and butter and Tibetan bread. I looked at the big, energetic hotel woman bustling about and doing almost everything. She was in the kitchen. She was serving everyone. She was at our table asking if we needed anything. The tea that we returned saying it was too milky was back within two minutes, this time just as we liked it. She was giving orders to the kitchen staff in her booming voice. She was serving the porters and guides a hearty breakfast and placing laden plates of boiled eggs and breads in from of them. Fifteen minutes later she was in the courtyard sweeping. My god, the mountain people have some extraordinary energy.
We set off for the day at 7:30am. The climb up to Chhomrong was a tough start to an even tougher day. I don't think there was a single downwards step for an hour till we reached the beginning of Chhomrong near the top of the hill. It was beautiful, though. The sun was shining on the valley, the birds we cheerfully chirping and there was a cool breeze blowing.We say two lovely birds perched on a telephone wire - one of then was a bright turquoise blue.
We reached Chhomrong at 9:30am, or so I think. More like the "beginning" or Chhomrong. The village went on and on for ages! The hut that I'd seen at the top of the hill and sighed at turned out to be only the beginning of an arduous journey. After crossing 'the house at the top of the hill' we began our downwards descent. I developed a love-hate relationship with descent today. While it was a welcome change from the constant ascent, it meant that we were loosing the height we had previously gained and would have to make up for it later.
On the way, we came to another ACAP checkpoint. A couple of women came up to us. One painted a long red tika on our forehead with her finger, while the other gave us each a red wild flower. We learnt what it was World Tourism Day. Who knew?
We encountered out first group of Indian trekkers at Chhomrong from Bombay. Surprisingly, it felt good to know that our fellow Indians were also here. We asked them if there was snow at ABC (they were on their way down) to which they said "Yes, of course!". This came as a surprise because Tirtha had told us their wasn't going to be any snow at ABC. A pair of trekkers - a Japanese man and his porter - crossed us along the way. It was amusing, because the Japanese looked energetic and upbeat and the porter looked completely drained. In fact, the Japanese was carrying a pretty big bag too. The porter seemed so relieved that the trail was going down now!
At the bottom of the valley, we crossed a long bridge, and from the other side up, the madness started. The sun's heat was sweltering. My back started aching due to the heavy bag I was carrying. Well not so much of my back as the part behind my neck and between my shoulders. I had to stop wherever I could to regain my energy. On the way up there was a protruding rock that provided invitingly cool shade. I let the pressure off my back for a while as the rock provided a lovely crevice underneath which there was sort of a natural bench.
We saw Alexi somewhere along, about twenty minutes after crossing the bridge. He said "Hey! You guys are ahead of me today!" How did he seem so fresh in the heat? He always started later and caught up before lunchtime. I got so exhausted after a while that Dada had to carry my bag on top of his own huge rucksack. I felt much lighter, granted, but the pain near my shoulders didn't subside. Tirtha and Varun forged ahead while Dada accompanied me Mama slowly from behind. Our lunch destination was Upper Sinuwa. The meaning of "Upper" didn't strike me until I saw a cluster of houses and was like "Yes! Destination in sight!". Nope. That was Lower Sinuwa. So destination not in sight. In the mountains, often, places look deceptively close. What seems like a (mighty) stones through away takes hours to reach.
We reached Upper Sinuwa at 12:20pm and I didn't have one ounce of energy left in me. It did not help my ego that Mama reached with me. The sunny and sweaty trek up was enough to finish me. My shoulders were burning, even though Dada had carried my bag up for me. I let my feet air a bit. I don't think they liked being laced up 8 hours a day.
At 12:45pm, we got our (by now) routine Dal Bhat lunch. I didn't feel like eating at all. Dada said I was probably dehydrated. But diagnosing the problem wouldn't help me in my irritable state. I know I had to get in as much food as possible to sustain the physical exertion, so slowly, bite by bite, I ate the soupy dal and rice till I no longer could. It was unfortunate that I couldn't enjoy my meal to the fullest; it was quite delicious. The Dal had a wonderful garlic flavour. Well at least everyone else enjoyed the meal.
Dada washed some shirts at Upper Sinuwa and pinned it to our bags. The sun was so strong that they would quickly dry. Well, the mountains don't listen to you. You listen to the mountains. It began by a drizzle, but twenty minutes after staring from Sinuwa the skies opened up and the rain fell steadily with no seeming intention of stopping. We took brief shelter under dense foliage and hastily brought our ponchos out after a bit of confusion about what was in who's bag and where. And continued on our suddenly wet path. I thought the rain would pose a hindrance, what with the slipperiness amplified but it was a relief to walk in the continued overcast skies. The sun had worked hard enough in the former part of the day. We had to be a little careful because we were descending into the valley once again (and my glasses were fogging up), but thankfully the stones weren't slippery. What with the dense foliage, the mossy trees, the wet stones, we could have been in a scene out of The Lord of the Rings. Or the Forbidden Forest. Tirtha said we'd reach Bamboo at the bottom of the valet in two and a half hours, but we reached in an hour and forty five minutes. Not bad! My shoulder pain hadn't subsided, but the energy from lunch kept us going strong.
Tirtha said we couldn't stay in Bamboo as he'd booked us a place in Dobhan in anticipation of trekking traffic. Mama and I were a little downcast. Bamboo seemed so pretty, with creepers along the housing and wild flowers growing. Anyways as we began to leave Bamboo, Alexi strolled in, looking jolly as usual. He said he'd decided to set camp at Bamboo today and enjoy the rainy beauty. And there was beauty aplenty to enjoy. Bamboo was a quaint little village; there were misty mountains to be seen from above and right in from of you, lovely waterfalls appearing and disappearing through the mist.
Anyways, on we went. It got so beautiful suddenly. It wasn't raining anymore, and the misty beauty was so breathtaking. We crossed small rickety wooden bridges and gushing rivers; little bits of blue sky were peeping from behind the clouds; high up, waterfalls were visible... This is why you come to the mountains.
We reached Dobhan at 4:30pm, relatively early compared to our previous days ending. We took a refreshingly hot shower which cost ₹150. The boiling hot water was comforting after the long, long day.
My left knee, in which I'd developed some pain on the trail today and gave me increasing trouble, got some rest which was essential. I could hardly walk down the steps towards the end due to my left knee aching.
A steaming mug of tea at 5:30pm and my journal in hand, I had enough to keep me occupied. At 6:00pm, Tirtha came over and we began discussing the next few days. This had become a routine for the evening. Our plan is that we spend tomorrow night either at Deurali or Machhapuchre Base Camp (MBC) and the day after that at ABC. And then we'll see.
At 6:15pm we all the outside to see the wonderful sunset over Machhapuchre.
Dinner was excellent. Noodles, excellent fried rice and mouth-wateringly delicious Mars Roll, which was like a deep-fried, light and airy Tibetan Bread with chopped up and melting Mars bars inside. Deliciously warm is the cold weather.
It is 7:45pm now. Dada is telling Varun to write a journal as a frantically write away instead of doing Dada's work - writing down the expenditures. Varun says he is more satisfied expenses than experiences.
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